


One Before Midnight

by Parzaval11235



Category: Dark Tower - Stephen King, IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Okay shits gonna get wild before it gets gay... bear with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parzaval11235/pseuds/Parzaval11235
Summary: Two months. Every day, for two months, Eddie Kaspbrak has been seeing the same things over and over: a field of roses, a tower, the house on Neibolt street.He isn't sure why he's seeing this, or why he feels like he's being pulled to his fate.But he's sure of one thing:There's no way Pennywise is dead.





	1. The House on Neibolt Street

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_funeral_u_say](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_funeral_u_say/gifts).



_ There was once a boy who lived in a fine home, a very fine home indeed. This home had three steps to a large yard, and a beautiful garden with flowering fruits. Beyond the house there were endless fields of roses, separated from the yard only by a small stream. _ __   
__   
_ The boy’s mother told him he mustn't ever cross the stream to the roses, lest he prick himself, or become sick with pollen, and for many years, the boy obeyed. _ __   
__   
_ As the boy grew older however, he came closer and closer to the stream’s edge - but he never dared to touch the water. _ __   
__   
_ One day there was a spider next to the water. This spider was a trickster, and wanted nothing more than to harm the boy, who had been protected for so long.  _ __   
__   
_ The spider said to the boy: “Step across, my friend, for this stream moves so slowly, and the roses are so beautiful”. But the boy wished not to wet his shoes, nor to disobey his mother, and the spider left. _ __   
__   
_ The boy found the spider yet again, many days later, next to the stream weaving a beautiful web. And the spider said to the boy: “Step across, my friend, for you have explored all of this yard, and there are worlds out there to be found”. But the boy knew only the familiarity of his own yard and home, and the spider left. _ __   
__   
_ One day the boy told his mother about the spider, who had been telling him to go across. The mother again forbade the boy from crossing the stream, and when the boy asked why he could not go see the roses, she became greatly angered. _ __   
__   
_ And the boy, mad at his mother for keeping him from the roses, returned to the stream. _ __   
__   
__ The spider had been waiting for him, and said to the boy: “Step across, my friend, for you are imprisoned here, and these roses shall set you free”. And so the boy crossed the stream.   
  


* * *

  
  
Eddie was back in the sewer, drenched in foul vomit, a metal stake gripped tightly in his hands. Blood floated all around, ebbing slowly upwards in thick droplets, all of it from the horrific creature they had just fought.    
  
Clawed fingers curled around the lip of a great well as Pennywise's head seemed to unravel, his eyes trained on some invisible sight behind all of the kids present. His mouth opened slowly.   
  
"Fear," was all he uttered, before he fell away into oblivion.   
  
Eddie woke up shivering, startled by the voice of his mother crashing in through his dream. It had been stalking his mind for weeks, constantly pulling his thoughts back to the sewers where the Losers Club had fought Pennywise two months earlier. He rubbed his arm instinctively, remembering the pain of breaking it in that nightmarish house on Neibolt Street where he had nearly faced his own death. His mom would have made him keep his cast on for much longer, but somehow became convinced his arm would get infected under the wrapping if he had it on for more than three months. Eddie knew better than to complain.   
  
"Eddie honey, you need to get ready or you'll be late for school! And don't forget your daily pill!"    
  
Eddie heard his mom calling from down the hall, urging him to get out of bed. Lazily, he rose, slipping his bed covers off of himself as he walked to the bathroom, the carpeted floor cold against his bare feet. He caught a glimpse of his bed-head in the mirror of the medicine cabinet as he swung it open, greeted by rows of orange and white pill bottles. He picked out the third one on the bottom shelf, examining the label. "Saccharin Cyclophosphamide". Whatever the hell that was.   
  
He twisted the cap open, shaking one of the small white pills into his hand before turning on the water from the sink's faucet. He closed the pill bottle back up and put it in the medicine cabinet, which he swung closed to see himself again.    
  
Eddie looked away from his reflection as he dropped the pill into the sink to be washed away down the drain, the swirling waters disposing of the tiny pellet.   
  


 

* * *

  
  
"See'ya, Missus K!" Richie Tozier called out, waving energetically as Eddie's mom drove away, prompting Eddie to roll his eyes.   
  
"Hey Eds," he said, this time to Eddie, who parried the hand Richie had been swooping down with to muss up his hair, which Eddie had spent so much time flattening into place.   
  
"Don't call me Eds," Eddie shot back reflexively. "Hey Bill," he said, as Bill Denbrough secured his trusty bike Silver to the rack by the stairs of the school.   
  
Bill had recently gotten a shorter haircut, “A new look for a new year of school” was the description of choice employed by his mom, so his usual dorky self was enhanced even further. His primary complaint was “it makes my ears st-t-tick out”, which was true, but everyone liked Bill too much to mention it.    
  
    Eddie hadn’t seen Bill too much since the pact last month - he had receded into himself some during the summer, what with Beverly leaving and dealing with his own grief. His parents had gotten him sessions with a therapist, but he said they didn’t help much when the truth of what happened that summer was far too crazy to tell anyone.

 

  
    “Say fellas, wanna catch the double-feature of Ghostbusters with me, Mike and Stan tonight at the Aladdin? We’re all pitching in for popcorn, the real overpriced stuff.” Richie said as the trio walked into the school, the hallway bustling with kids filling their new lockers and heading to their classes.    
  
    “Sh-sure t-thing Richie,” Bill said, and Richie turned to Eddie as they walked, which meant Richie was now walking backwards in a busy hallway. “How about you, Eds? Or do ya got something against getting slimed?”   
  
    Eddie could feel his cheeks redden at Richie’s use of ‘Eds’ for the second time that day. “Actually, could we talk about something at lunch?” he said, and if Richie hadn’t just bumped into someone and nearly tripped, he would have given him a strange look.    
  
    The absurdly loud bell blaring through the hall saved Eddie from having to do any awkward explanations just yet.    
  
    “Lunch it is, señor!” Richie waxed dramatically as they parted ways, Eddie and Bill to their respective classes, and Richie in the direction of Stan’s locker which they had just passed.    
  
    Before Bill made off though, his eyes caught Eddie’s in a look that seemed to capture him just for a moment. Bill always seemed to know so much about Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t really want others to know his true thoughts.    
  
    If there was anyone Eddie really felt he could trust with everything he carried within him, it was Bill Denbrough.   
  


 

* * *

  
  
“This sounds like a completely stupid idea,” Stan said, taking a bite of his sandwich and then talking with a full mouth. “If you remember, last time we went there we all almost died. Multiple times.”   
  
Eddie shook his head. “All these visions and dreams are showing me the house and the sewer. I mean, what if, when we killed Pennywise and he fell down that - that pit, what if he wasn’t dead?”   
  
Ben sat quietly, punching a straw into a Capri Sun. The five boys were all sitting at their usual lunch spot - a corner where two wings met behind a large oak tree.   
  
“Eddie w-we ssaw it die,” Bill said, his stutter becoming more pronounced as it often did when he thought about Pennywise. “We killed it.”   
  
    “And if the piece of shit didn’t die because of us, it had to have died when it fell. You can’t be fuckin’ serious, Eds.” Richie added; Eddie was too focused on his thoughts to object at the use of ‘Eds’.   
  
    “Look, I know it’s stupid. But these visions are just gonna keep coming, and maybe going there will, I don’t know, get rid of them or something.” Eddie said, his eyes going to Bill’s, desperately trying to get through to him specifically. If Bill was set on something, the others would follow. Bill’s eyes met Eddie’s, and something in them clicked, like wheels were turning around in his head.   
  
    “Maybe he’s ri- m-maybe he’s right.” Bill said, and the other boys turned to him, surprised that Bill of all people would support going back there. “D-Doctor Hays ssays ‘closure is important ffor dealing w-with trauma’.”   
  
    Stan shook his head, his eyes haunted. “I’m not going back there. Not now, not ever.”   
  
    “What’s wrong Stanley, afraid the fucker ain’t dead?” Richie said, only to be met with an immediate glare and a quick “Beep beep, Richie” from Stan.   
  
    “I’ll go with Eddie.” Ben piped up, and now it was the group’s turn to collectively look to him. “I know what I saw down there - Pennywise dying, us almost dying - but I don’t know what Eddie’s seeing. And if he wants to go back, I’ll go with him.”   
  
    There was silence for a moment, until Richie, broke it, like usual. “Sorry Stan - you know I can’t pass up a chance to splash around in shit.”   
  
    “That m-makes ffour of us,” Bill said, turning to Eddie, who felt a lot more confident now that his friends were at his side.   
  
    “Okay. We’ll go after school.”   
  


 

* * *

  
  
    Eddie stuffed a pile of folded shirts and shorts into his backpack, pushing them to the bottom and loosening the straps to fit as much as he could. He had already raided the kitchen and pantry, filling tupperwares and bags with leftovers and snacks. If he was back before nightfall he could put it all back and his mom would never know they were gone.   
  
    But he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going home for quite some time. For two months now, the Neibolt house had been calling to him, like when he had first gone it had wrapped around him, and tugged at his very soul, singing out to him in his dreams. He put a small blue journal in with the other supplies in his backpack, the same journal he had been taking notes on his dreams and making theories in. There were some constants that he found time and time again in his strange visions, and they had to have some sort of significance.   
  
    He would see small flashes of certain scenes - a field of roses, faded papers in the underbrush of a forest, the Neibolt house - and the sewer- itself. And the visions would always return to Pennywise falling into that dark pit. He was going to find out why.   
  
    Eddie went to his dresser, pulling out the bottom drawer as far as it could, pushing his arm in the space and reaching behind it. His fingers sought out the dresser’s bottom, and brushed against something solid before wrapping around it and pulling it out.   
  
    His dad's old knife. He had found it once, and, not wanting to have it taken away by his mom, hid it in his room. He pulled it out every so often, to feel the weight, look at the blade. He had a very tiny scar on his the tip of his right pointer finger - he had sharpened it once and accidentally slipped right into his finger.   
  
    The knife had a sheath that attached to a belt, which Eddie did now, the weight hanging comfortingly at his right hip. He grabbed a sweatshirt from his closet and pulled it over his shirt, letting the hem hang down to cover the knife.   
  
    His fanny pack was already loaded with inhaler refills and medicine, as well as some simple first aid, and his backpack was now struggling to stay closed with the food and clothes and such he had put in there.   
  
    Eddie put his backpack on, looking at his room one last time, with the peculiar sense that it would be quite some time before he was here again.    
  
  
    Thankfully his mom was sleeping when he left - goodbyes were so much harder when you were lying.   
  


 

* * *

  
  
    The house on Neibolt Street stood before the four boys, sitting almost smugly, like it knew that they would inevitably return to this place. So little had changed about it - it was the same old dump it had been two months ago, all angles and shambles. There were only small clues indicating the true nature of this house. The bikes of the four boys leaned up against the iron fence, gaps betraying the places where stakes had been pulled off and used as weapons deep beneath the very ground. Near the front stairs was a collection of broken glass, which Richie kicked towards the clumps of weeds at the house’s foundation.   
  
    “You sure about this?” Ben asked, staring at the house in apprehension. Bill and Richie looked to Eddie. All those months of visions had been pulling him to this place, a siren song he knew he couldn’t escape.   
  
    So if he couldn’t run away from it, he might as well run towards it.   
  
    “Let’s do this.” Eddie said finitely, taking the rickety steps to the front door and stepping through. The house didn’t seem to be any different on the inside either. The four boys all stood closely together in the entrance, each undoubtedly remembering what they had seen and been through the last time they were here. Richie scooped up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor, flattening it out. His own face looked back at him from the missing poster he had found before. Eddie took it from him wordlessly, folding it up and shoving it in his pocket. It would just continue to bother Richie if he saw or thought about it.   
  
    “The basement,” Eddie said pointing towards the stairs with the flashlight he had retrieved from his bag. None of them seemed too interested in exploring the house any further than they needed to, so they went downstairs quickly to get this over with.   
  
    The well greeted them stonily, sitting squat and motionless. The rope they had hung into it was still there, rough to the touch as Eddie held it so Ben could secure the knot and Bill fastened it onto the winch hook.    
  
    “Last chance to, uh, not do this,” Richie said as they stood in a semicircle around the well.   
  
    Eddie responded by wrapping his leg around the rope and descending into the well, pushing off of the wall and swinging himself to the tunnel in the wall that led to the sewer.   
  
    “Let’s go,” Eddie said, and the other boys quickly followed, climbing down to the sewers one more time.   
  


 

  
  
There were no floaters. All the bodies that had been hovering listlessly in the sewer’s atrium where the Losers Club had fought Pennywise two months ago were now gone without a trace, which seemed almost more sinister somehow than finding their bodies scattered about on the ground. The boys wandered around reverentially, as if they were in a cursed sort of church, treading carefully and slowly, for what reason, none of them quite knew.   
  
“Remember this bat, Bill?” Richie said, the beam of his flashlight sweeping over a wooden bat which was lying on the ground. He picked it up, giving it an experimental swing and narrating in a corny Voice - “And there it goes, folks, past the basemen, sailing on over the field, By God, it’s gonna be a right Homer, that one!” He cupped his hand to his eyes, peering off into nothing, as if he could find some real baseball beyond the great rounded walls of that place. “And to think just two months ago I cracked off a damn good one with this.”   
  
“S-sure Richie,” Bill said, trying to relieve the awkward tension they all felt.   
  
Eddie watched as Ben, Richie and Bill explored the great pile of washed-away belongings and debris, something they weren’t quite able to do before. Eddie felt the strange tugging inside him increasing, it had been pounding in his head and his gut the whole time that they had been navigating the sewers that led to this opening. The visions flickered wildly now just at the edge of his thoughts - roses curled like barbed wire. A spider’s web being strung. Pennywise falling. A great swirling mass of light that burned even without seeing or feeling it.

 

    Like he was on a cord being pulled, Eddie methodically walked up to the lip of the pit that Pennywise had fallen into, stepping up onto the raised concrete and looking down into the abyss that descended beneath him.

  
“Hey Eddie - Eddie?” He heard Ben call, and then, more urgently, “Eddie!” Three sets of footsteps could be heard behind him, until he felt someone grab him by the arm and pull him down from the pit’s edge. “You could have fallen,” Ben said.   
  
“W-what are you doing, Eddie?” Bill practically shouted. Eddie looked away quickly as Bill tried to lock eyes with him, because he knew Bill would read him just like a book. Richie stared at Eddie, without even a joke to crack. Eddie frantically searched for something, anything to make up, some reason as to why he wanted to be here, but the reason was right behind him.   
  
“I can’t do this anymore, guys!” Eddie blurted out. “I haven’t stopped seeing all these, these fuckin’ nightmares, and every time I’m even close to Neibolt I feel dragged.”   
  
“Eds, what are you saying? I thought these dreams started just-” Eddie shook his head, looking at Richie with panicked eyes.   
  
“Two months. Every single night. During the day. Every time I close my eyes.” Eddie stabbed his finger at the pit. “I don’t believe for one second that Pennywise is dead. We beat him too easily, almost like he let us. What if he’s just waiting again, so that in twenty-seven years, he can come back and start killing people again! We made a pact,” he added, now looking to Ben, who shied away, and then Bill, whose eyes were watering, his face haunted. “In twenty-seven years, if It returned, we’d come back. And we’d kill It. I don’t want to do that, Bill, I don’t ever want to see him again.”   
  
“Ed- Eddie, Eddie p-please, I d-d-don’t g-get why you’re doing thi-this.” Bill said shakily, his eyes threatening to spill over, his knuckles white around the handle of his flashlight.   
  
Eddie looked down at his feet, avoiding looking at any of them - it would hurt him too much to see how he was hurting them.   
  
“I’ll be back,” Eddie said, taking a deep breath and tightening the straps on his backpack. “I’ll be back, I swear it.”   
  
Before any of them could grab him to stop him, Eddie stepped up onto the pit’s edge again, feeling that irresistible pull.   
  
And he stepped off into darkness.


	2. The Spider and the Fly

    There was sand in Eddie’s shoes.

 

    He apparently hadn’t died from dropping into the pit from the sewers, in fact, it didn’t feel like he had fallen at all. Like one second he was stepping off, and the next he was standing on the ground, surrounded on all sides by a great and sickeningly sweet field of roses that seemed to be in a great circle around the tower that lie before him, a great swath of red and pink that stretched nearly as far as he could see.

 

    The tug that had been so powerful in Eddie, that had been tormenting him for months, was now clear - it was a sharp pain that blurred his vision and left him with a sour taste in his mouth, and always pointing him towards the tower.

 

    Calling it a tower, really, wasn’t quite correct. It was as if some giant had struck a crude nail into the ground and it had sprouted up, scraping the air itself, its edges black and chaotic. The pull it created within him was humming, a low rumbling that was barely perceptible, emanating from within Eddie rather than as a sound outside of him.

 

    Gritting his teeth against the pain, Eddie spoke.

 

    “Why am I here? What is this place?” he said, his voice small, as if it had not carried at all and was something opposite to an echo.

 

    As if in response to his question, the roses in front of Eddie bowed away from each other, pulling apart in a line shooting from his feet to the tower, a bare sandy path where there had once been roses. And in Eddie’s head, for the first time, there was a voice other than his own, one he could hear and yet not identify as belonging to anything or anyone:

 

_You have been called here, Edward Kaspbrak._

 

_Walk._

 

    Eddie shivered, regardless of the complete absence of any temperature that he could feel. Something about the voice seemed to command him, and in spite of himself, he put one foot in front of the other, the roses at his sides pulling away, their petals glowing with a harsh light. His walking carried him ever closer to the tower.

 

    “Why was I called?”

 

_That is the wrong question._

 

    Eddie frowned, glaring at nothing in particular. “What is the right question, then?” he said, annoyed.

 

_The right questions always come when you need to ask them most._

 

    “Great. Confusing bullshit is always helpful.” The voice didn’t respond to this, simply urging him quietly to continue forward, until Eddie had reached the tower - though it had seemed so far away from him across an endless field of roses, it was now right before him after barely seconds. He was standing right in front of a door at the tower’s base, much taller than himself, made of a flat grey wood, pale and imposing against the stone of the tower. Set into the the door with etchings were strange images and patterns, crossing back and forth in rows between the bands of steel that held the door firm. As Eddie looked at the door the symbols seemed to melt into one another and warp, forming new patterns in a hypnotizing mass.

 

    “I’m supposed to enter this thing? There’s not even a doorkn-” Just as Eddie started the word “doorknob”, a crystalline sphere on the door appeared where there had previously been a flat surface. On it’s face was a rose, the spiral of petals spreading out to the facets. Eddie hesitantly raised his right hand, pressing it to the knob.

 

    In an instant, the doorknob burned against his palm. Eddie yelped, trying to pull his arm away, but couldn’t get his hand from off of the knob. The burning brought hot tears into his eyes as he bit into his sleeve, barely restraining a scream that was trying to wrestle its way out from behind his teeth. As quickly as it had begun, it stopped, and Eddie stumbled away, his hand released. He turned his hand to view his palm, which now had a fierce red burn in the exact design of the rose, some of the petals nearly reaching the base of his fingers. He rubbed against his eyes with his other arm to dispel the tears that were threatening to fall, scared to let anything touch his hand. As he watched, the burn scarred over before his eyes, the red lines replaced by white scar tissue, a permanent marking.

 

    The door slowly swung open.

 

    “What the _fuck_ was that?” Eddie said, his voice shaky from the pain.

 

_A doorknob, Edward._

 

    “ _Fuck_ you,” Eddie said through his teeth. He stepped through the doorway apprehensively, a pure darkness enveloping him, even though there was light from outside the door - almost like it couldn’t cross over. The door in question creaked, slowly beginning to move, and then quickly slamming, causing Eddie to whirl around, too late. Without warning, a brilliant light flared, and Eddie instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes, his hand smarting in pain as he did so. His eyes eventually adjusted, spots in his vision.

 

    He was in a room - like the entrance to a house, if the house were an exquisitely fashioned mansion. The roof was high above him in a dome, a chandelier hanging down with soft swirls of metal and crystal, with no visible flames or electric lights, and yet the room was completely illuminated without any windows. The ground was a polished marble where it wasn’t plush, immaculate red carpet, which wound up a sweeping staircase with gleaming banisters leading to a higher floor, and stretched out on the ground level through archways into other rooms similarly fashioned. Soft music played, some familiar tune…

 

    “Is that David Bowie?” Eddie said incredulously, his eyes wide as the familiar beat and piano intro of “Under Pressure” filtered through the room.

 

_This tower will see into you, Edward. It will present itself to you as a comforting environment._

 

    Eddie nodded, following the carpet. He took the stairs, running his hand - the uninjured one - on the cool banister as he ascended. The second floor had a hallway with the same carpet and floor, filled with doors in uniform rows, receding back to an unseen point. Eddie pushed open the first door, the one on the right, and saw a grand bedroom complete with a four poster bed and fireplace. He crossed the hall and opened the opposite door, to reveal… yet another bedroom. With the same layout and bed as the first, the fire crackling in the stone fireplace.

 

    A worrying suspicion crept into his thoughts. He quickly went down to the next pair of doors, pushing them both open to confirm that they each held identical bedrooms. The next pair was the same, and those after, until Eddie was running as fast as he could, flinging open every single door just to find the same damn sight. And what was worse, even though he must have opened thirty doors, every time he would turn around he would just find himself back at the peak of the staircase looking out into the hallway.

 

    “Explain,” Eddie said, breathing heavily, understandably pissed.

 

_In time, Edward Kaspbrak. For now you must rest and heal. Any room will do, they are all simply reflections of the same room._

 

    “And if I don’t?”

 

_You will simply remain in this hallway until you do. Time, Edward, is never as it seems._

 

    “Time. _Time._ ” Eddie said, horror dawning upon him. “Shit, I must have been gone so long, I need to get back-”

 

_Not a moment has passed, nor will any time ever pass while you remain away from your world._

 

    Something about the way the voice described Eddie’s home as his _world_ didn’t sit very well with him. This place was so clearly unlike any normal place on Earth, but he wouldn’t let himself entertain the idea that he had really traveled away from his own actual planet.

 

    He kicked open the first door that he had opened, not caring about manners. This tower was stupid, and a swift kick to the door seemed only right to communicate this. He carefully pulled off his backpack with just one hand, tossing it on the bed. If the burn on his hand hadn’t healed like it did, he would have treated it, but there was really nothing he could do besides deal with the pain. He held out his hands to the fire, but the tower spurned him once again. He felt no heat from the fire at all.

 

    Resigned, he flopped down on the bed, which was terribly soft. If it weren’t so nice he would have complained rather loudly about it, and he was almost disappointed now that he couldn’t. The blankets and sheets felt soft and cool against his skin, even soothing his scarred palm as he lay there.

 

    Eventually, he couldn’t take the silence, and even though the voice was annoying as anything, it was the only other voice around, apparently.

 

    “Will you tell me where I am now?” Eddie said, the voice responding as if it too had been feeling overwhelmed by the quiet.

 

_You are in Mid-World._

 

    “And that means… I’m not on Earth?”

 

_Not quite, Edward. This is simply another plane of the Dark Tower._

 

    The Dark Tower. That had to be the tower he was currently in; appropriate name. He thought everything over for a bit. He hadn’t fallen, he had just sort of… stepped. Into a new place, like going through a door. And he had come here from the pit that he stepped into…

 

    If he had come here from the pit, then when Pennywise tumbled down into it, he must be here as well.

 

    Eddie scrambled to his feet, heart pounding suddenly, fumbling to pull the knife at his belt out and brandishing it. “None of this is real, is it. It’s some crazy dream and Pennywise is the one making it all, isn’t he? _Isn’t_ he?” Eddie said, tripping over his own words in his rush. The voice’s next words made him even more afraid than he currently was:

 

_IT is not the cause of this._

 

    “Then what the fuck is because I’ll have you know that I’ve fought - I’ve beaten Pennywise. Whatever you are, when you actually show up, I’ll beat you too.” If it showed up. And Eddie really didn’t actually want this voice to be something physical outside of himself that he would have to face.

 

_IT, Pennywise, is not here. Not in this place. And you will never truly meet me, Edward. You may lower the knife._

 

    Eddie did not lower the knife. “You didn’t answer my question.”

 

_All in due time, Edward._

 

    “You said time is never as it seems.” Eddie said, and the voice didn’t have anything to counter that with. He put the knife back in the sheath on his belt, nothing to stab. He was getting restless just sitting in this room, and he knew the sudden burst of adrenaline wouldn’t let him go back to lounging. He scooped up his backpack, pulling the door open.

 

    Instead of the hallway, however, there was now a great dining room, with an immense table, beautiful hanging chandeliers even bigger than the one at the entrance lighting the gleaming wood of the table - and all the food on it. It was covered in platters and plates and bowls and glasses, with more foods than Eddie could even name, some he couldn’t even identify. There were multiple high-backed chairs, but only one was pulled out, at the head of the table.

 

    Eddie cautiously walked to the chair, sitting in it and pulling it close to the table. His feet were dangling just above the floor. He thought about taking his backpack off, but decided against it. The food looked literally perfect, like it had come straight from a show on TV. It could’ve been poisoned, but Eddie figured if something here wanted him dead it could have done it awhile ago.

 

    “All this food and no one to share it with?” he said sarcastically, grabbing a plate of what looked like a small, round cake with something drizzled over the top. He grabbed a fork with his left hand, awkwardly trying to hold it, and took a bite, the rich taste exploding with sweetness in his mouth. It wasn’t like anything he’d had before.

 

 _Would you like company?_ The voice inquired.

 

    “Look who decided to answer,” Eddie said, taking another bite and reveling in the deliciousness. “Why, are you gonna come and share this with me?”

 

    Suddenly, the voice sounded from near Eddie rather than in his head.

 

    “Hello.” Eddie heard, and looked up, startled.

 

    Bill was sitting there, just a few chairs away from Eddie, looking at him. Eddie watched as he studied the table’s food, grabbing a plate of chicken and roasted vegetables.

 

    “You’re not really Bill, are you,” Eddie said, suddenly not very interested in his own food.

 

    “And w-why are you so ssure of th-that?” the Not-Bill said, now with the exact voice and stutter of Eddie’s Bill. And gosh, if it were Bill, Eddie wouldn’t hesitate to run to him. But he knew better.

 

    “My Bill doesn’t like asparagus. He can’t stand it, but for some reason Georgie loves- loved it. So he’d always pass it over to him.” Eddie was hit by a wave of a peculiar feeling, like he had a thought on the tip of his tongue but couldn’t quite get to it. “I don’t think I should be here… I need to get back, to - to,”

 

    “No time passes here, Edward.” The Not-Bill said. It was horrible to hear himself being called Edward - from his best friend Bill, of all people. But this wasn’t his best friend.

 

    “It does for me! I can’t stay here forever, I really need to get back -”

 

    To where, exactly? Eddie was now very scared, and that feeling like he was just barely unable to think of something was growing larger. What was the name of the town he was from… Something with a D…

 

    “Derry!” Eddie yelled at the Not-Bill, standing up suddenly. “I’m from Derry, Maine!”

 

    The Not-Bill stood as well, and the cold menace in his eyes truly frightened Eddie. Bill had never looked at him like that, ever, and the tears Eddie had been holding back earlier at the door were threatening to reappear. “I think you should settle down, Edward.”

 

    “I’m Eddie Kaspbrak, from Derry, Maine. My best friends are there.” Eddie said, shoving his hands against his ears so he couldn’t hear the Not-Bill, but the voice was back inside his mind.

 

_Don’t worry._

 

    “Mike Hanlon! Stan Uris!” Eddie yelled out, squeezing his eyes shut so hard he saw stars.

 

_You don’t ever have to worry again, Edward._

 

    “Ben Hanscom and Richie Tozier! What are you doing to me?” he yelled, more urgently now, the names threatening to slip away.

 

_Really, Edward. Soon you won’t have to remember anything. No pain. No past. Anything you want, here in this tower._

 

    Eddie took his hand and unsheathed his knife, a single tear beginning to track down his cheek. “Bill Denbrough.” He said, and then he pushed out with his arm at the Not-Bill, who looked down at the handle protruding from his chest. Eddie opened his eyes, seeing the Not-Bill who looked just like his Bill, and at his own hand.

 

    “You’re not real. And I won’t forget a thing.”

 

    The Not-Bill faded away, leaving the knife in the air, still spotless. Eddie pushed it back into his sheath. “I’ve gotta get out of here. Tell me how.”

 

_Edward, why do you oppose this utopia._

 

    “Because perfect doesn’t exist. Perfect is bad jokes and bruises and making memories, not losing them,” Eddie said, pulling on the door to the dining room that had originally been the door to the bedroom, but it wouldn’t open.

 

 _I CAN’T LET YOU LEAVE, EDWARD._ The voice boomed, and Eddie flinched. Up until now it had been a soft voice, he had let his guard down, but now it shook him to the core. _YOU MUST LISTEN TO ME._

 

    Eddie sat down against the door, pulling himself into a ball with his eyes closed again.

 

_Once, Edward, there was a boy who lived in a very fine home. You could almost call it a perfect home, a place all of his creation. It had three steps, and a field of roses. This boy wanted to leave to the roses, but the home was beautiful, you see, and he feared he would prick himself on these roses. He had all he ever wanted._

 

    The words were lulling Eddie into a trance, there was no escaping his own mind.

 

    “How does a squid go into battle?” Eddie said, yelling against the voice.

 

_One day, Edward, the boy decided that he should go and explore the roses. But hidden in the roses, balancing carefully on a stem, was a spider._

 

    “Well armed!” Eddie shouted, grasping at his own memory desperately. “How do billboards talk?”

 

_And when the boy left the safety of his tower to play in the roses, the spider saw him. It was a very hungry and evil spider and wanted nothing more than to hurt this boy, but the tower had kept the boy safe._

 

    “They use sign language! Corn is a good listener because it’s all ears! A sleeping bull is a bulldozer!” Eddie was pouring out every single bad joke Richie had ever told him, he remembered them all because Richie would always use the same ones over and over, and Eddie would always laugh at them no matter how stupid he thought they were.

 

    “When is a door not a door?” Eddie asked, quietly now, a new idea forming.

 

_When is a door not a door, Edward? Enlighten me._

 

    Eddie put his hand behind his back, pressing it to the door he was up against, and smiled.

 

    “When it’s ajar.”

  


    The door behind Eddie was gone now, and Eddie toppled back with nothing to lean against, feeling himself fall down onto ground - not marble floor or fine carpet. Real, dirty ground.

 

    The last of the voice that Eddie heard was a tortured scream before it was sealed away, and Eddie was in a new place, out of the tower.

 


	3. Come Join the Clown, Eds

    There had never been a moment in the life of Eddie Kaspbrak in which he wanted to scoop up a handful of dirt and eat it. Not that he wanted to do that right at this moment, but he couldn’t be more relieved to be covered in dirt and leaves than he was right now. The image of the Not-Bill, the voice, seemed burned into his mind whenever he closed his eyes, as if he had been staring at a bright light and the imprint remained.

 

    He seemed to be in a forest, although it was unlike any that he had been in. The trees that towered above him were pale and slender, stretching up into a murky sky thick with fog. The ground was littered with dead plant life and broken branches, many of them grey and faded with age. The ground itself was dry and dusty, stirred up into small clouds by the breeze that sung eerily through the woods. Eddie stood, pressing his back to one of the trees.

 

    “Where am I?” he said aloud, just to see if the voice was still there, if this was just an illusion from the tower. 

 

    There was no voice to respond - or, it was simply remaining quiet for now. Eddie surveyed his surroundings, noticing for the first time that there were scattered papers and what looked like carnival tickets hidden among the dead underbrush - that’s what Mike said the plants on a forest floor were called. Underbrush. Stan said that sparrows liked to hang around in the underbrush, but, as Eddie noticed now, there seemed to be no noise coming from anything other than the wind.

 

    Eddie knelt down and grabbed one of the tickets - “DERRY’s BIG CIRCUS. ADMIT ONE” it read in thick black lettering. Eddie turned over the ticket slowly, revealing the other side, which had a crudely stamped image of a clown he recognized all too well.

 

    “Pennywise,” Eddie whispered, and as if in response, the wind around him picked up and he heard a loud creaking of metal, like a gate being opened. His head shot up and he saw an old, rusted sign with damaged letters hanging precariously on the wooden grid that supported it. PENNYWISE - IRCUS O  FU.

 

    “We killed Pennywise.” Eddie said to the air, more pissed than scared. First he had to deal with losing his mind in some crazy tower, and now a dead forest and a maybe-dead clown?

 

    “If you’re alive, you’ll face me,” Eddie practically yelled. He blinked, and in an instant, everything changed.

 

    The trees were replaced by brightly colored booths filled with carnival games, the dusty ground was now neatly made into a grassy path which wove through a bustling circus. That wasn’t to say that the place was filled with people, in fact, it was the opposite. There was noise that should have come from families and workers, like laughter and milk bottles being knocked down with a well-aimed baseball pitch, but the entire carnival was barren.

    Eddie walked down through the rows of booths, a practically endless path that only brought him back to where he had started, just like the hallway in the tower. He felt tempted to kick something again.

 

    The rusted old sign was now standing proudly at the circus entrance, the letters illuminated with colorful bulbs. 

 

    “PENNYWISE, CIRCUS OF FUN.” Eddie read, and now, there was another sign below it. “We humbly welcome Edward Kaspbrak to our circus.”

 

    If Eddie never heard his name again, it would honestly be perfectly fine with him. It had been used enough just today to last him a lifetime, which may not be very long now. It was starting to look like dropping into that pit in the sewers was easily the stupidest thing he’d done in his life so far, well above sneaking a cigarette with Beverly (the coughing alone sucked as all get out), or skipping school to go downtown with Richie (his mom only found out because of how stressed Eddie was that she might have already found out).

 

    The circus had changed now that he was at the entrance again - it was no longer booths with games. In front of him was a huge circular tent with a great peaked roof, all red and white stripes. An arrow was painted onto the ground, pointing towards a tent-flap entrance ahead of him.

 

    “Don’t go in there,” Eddie muttered to himself, and walked right in.

  
  


    The first thing Eddie saw was himself. Actually, about ten of himself, or even more - he had reflections all around him, watching himself from different angles. A mirror maze. The way some of the reflections were configured, he could see his own backside, his dusty backpack and the cowlick on the back of his head he could never quite smooth down. There was something very unsettling about seeing your own back.

 

    And slightly more unsettling when it turns around and grins at you.

 

    The Mirror Eddie stared at the real Eddie, a smile on his face that went a bit too wide, his eyes a bit too bright, like it was a bad copy of Eddie that wasn’t quite perfect. It walked slowly towards the real Eddie, who was paralyzed in fear, his fingers fumbling about frantically for the knife on his belt. Just as he found the clasp to unsheath it, the Mirror Eddie slammed its hand against the other side of the mirror like it was a window, fingers splayed outwards. The palm was smooth - no cut from the pact, no burn in the shape of a rose.

 

    “I’m not afraid of you,” Eddie said, feigning bravery. Really he was scared shitless - last time he faced Pennywise alone it didn’t go very well.

 

    The Mirror Eddie spoke with Eddie’s own voice, but it was all wrong. The lips didn’t form the same sounds that seemed to come from it, and not at the right times either. 

 

    “Who are you not afraid of, Eddie? Yourself?” it said, and then sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, suddenly taking the clown form of Pennywise. “ _ Or me? _ ”

 

    The hand on the glass was now gloved and pale, horrible black claws extending from the fingertips and tapping on the mirror’s other side.

 

    Eddie took a shaky breath, feeling himself on the verge of hyperventilating. Deliberately, he removed his hand from the knife’s sheath, holding it out at his side expectantly. “You can’t hurt me if I don’t let you. You’re only in my mind.”

 

    Pennywise’s eyes slowly melted from blue to a piercing yellow, and his jaw seemed to lower, like he was keeping teeth in his mouth that were too large for any human proportions. “Mind… mind, Eddie. I’m all in your mind. I see all in your mind.”

 

    “Do you see this, asshole?” Eddie asked, just as he felt a weight in his hand. Pennywise’s eyes widened as Eddie swung the newly-created baseball bat he now held at the mirror, causing it to shatter into what must have been a million shards, all on the floor around him.

 

    Thank  _ God  _ that worked in time. Eddie remembered what he had learned from the sheep gun in the sewers - if Pennywise manifests your fears, being near him could manifest your other thoughts as well. The baseball bat, though Eddie didn’t inspect it, was quite similar to another one kept in the closet of a boy named Richie Tozier, and if Eddie were to look closer, he would realize that this bat had been used against Pennywise before, each time accompanied by his proper title - “Asshole”.

 

    The other side of the mirror was no longer just a collection of reflections - the opening gave way to rocky walls, all cobwebs and grossness as Eddie stepped through, the glass crunching under his sneakers as he used the bat to clear away the webs. Now, there were probably plenty of perfectly logical reasons that one  _ shouldn’t  _ follow murderous clowns into caves, but Eddie didn’t plan on utilizing any of them.

 

    The tunnel opened up, not into a rocky cave, but instead into a dimly lit hallway that looked just like the Derry Hospital's hallways. The hall was empty of all people, and there was no sound like a normal hospital should have. Every door was closed, except for one at the very end of the hall, from which a light pulsed.

    Eddie took a single step and suddenly the hallway was drenched in blood, thrown about on the walls and pooling on the floor. There were big white lumps wrapped up with webs and hanging from the ceiling, just the right size for a person to be inside, stained with blood and swaying gently.

 

    Naturally, Eddie threw up.

    He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his throat burning as he heard a voice and his head shot up.

    Standing in the hallway, blood dripping from his fingertips, was Eddie. Except it wasn't really Eddie - it was the Mirror Eddie that Pennywise had made him see.

    "Welcome back, Jack." The Mirror Eddie said, smiling grotesquely. Eddie took another step forward, his sneakers making horrid sounds as they came down on the thickened blood.

    "You're supposed to be dead," Eddie said, talking to keep himself breathing. He could feel panic starting to set in. "I kicked you in the face." He took another step, his legs feeling immensely heavy, like they were being pulled to the floor.

    "He tells me I should be dead," the Mirror Eddie says, his face twisted like IT had tried to smile but all the angles and movements were wrong. "I could devour you, Eddie."

    Eddie took another step, and another. He pulled out his inhaler from his fanny pack and took a deep hit from it, the acrid taste focusing him. "Why haven't you then? Go on and do it. You could have eaten me in Neibolt, too. I think you can't hurt me, not here."

    The Mirror Eddie's eyes shifted to a bright yellow-red color as Eddie took another step.

    "You're asleep, aren't you? For twenty-seven years. You can't do  _ shit  _ right now, except scare me." Another, painful, heavy step, and Eddie was right in front of the Mirror Eddie.

    "I won't be scared anymore." Eddie said, and he reached his hand out to the chest of the other Eddie. The second his fingers touched, the other Eddie started dissolving outwards, crumbling like sand. Wherever the sand hit the floor, it seemed to explode outwards, quickly filling up around Eddie's legs.

    He fought to bring himself forward but the sand multiplied even further, sweeping him off of his feet. He tried to shut his mouth but the sand forced itself into every opening, his mouth, his ears, up into his nose as it spun him around, pushing up towards the ceiling and flooding the entire hallway.

    Eddie felt himself being suffocated, his vision going dark. His fingers scraped weakly.

    Until his hand hit something solid. He felt the edge of a doorway, wrapping his fingers around the wood and pulling himself, feeling his arms straining as the sand dragged him backwards. Somehow the sand wasn't in the open room, because when he got his other hand to the doorway, it burst through into air. He kept pulling, and the sand in his ears relented just enough for Eddie to hear a sickening crunching noise accompanied by a sharp pain in his chest. He forced his head out, the sand from his head spilling all over but gravitating to the mass in the hallway like magnets. He got his chest out, and then to his waist.

    The last thing he felt before he blacked out was hitting the cold floor, the sand no longer around him, and then the sound of a door shutting behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do I mark this work as not yet completed???


	4. That Which Should Never Be

    "Eddie, you are going to be late, mister!"

 

    Eddie heard a voice calling for him, and pulled the blanket around him tighter, not wanting to get up.

 

    "Wait..." he muttered, still sleepy. " _ Blanket _ ."

 

    Eddie scrambled out of, apparently, his bed, and not from off the floor of a hospital room or in a hallway filled with sand. Neither of those were great choices, but they made a lot more sense than him being in his bedroom.

 

    He heard a knock at the door and instinctively went to grab the knife that should have been at his waist, but there was nothing for him to grab.

 

    The door opened a bit and a man looked through, scanning over the bed and then seeing Eddie. "Oh good, you're up. I've made french toast if you want, it's on the table getting cold. And put some pants on first, please."

 

    The door closed again, as Eddie suddenly realized who had just woken him up.

 

    His dad.

 

    Eddie went to his dresser and grabbed a shirt and the aforementioned pants, stopping to reach behind the drawer. There was no knife hidden in his dresser.

 

    He saw his backpack sitting up against his desk, his fanny pack on the chair, and practically tore it open.

 

    Inside, rather than notebooks or folders, was containers of food and clothing. And right on top, was the knife in its sheath. Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, not bothering to pull out the supplies. He'd rather have them in case this was just an illusion made by Pennywise, or he was somehow in the Tower again. 

 

    He got dressed and put his backpack and fanny pack back on, feeling the palm of his hand sting as he picked them up. There right in the middle of his hand was the rose-shaped burn, now scarred over but still painful.

 

    "Come on, Eddie!" He heard the man - his dad, call out. 

 

    "Coming!"

  
  


    "Thanks for the french toast Dad," Eddie said, the word like a strange taste in his mouth every time he said it.

 

    "No problem, kiddo," his dad said, ruffling Eddie's hair. If time itself could stop for just that moment, he'd live in it forever if he could. He felt tears coming and quickly blinked them away. "Mom can drive you in just a minute."

 

    "What about taking my bike?" Eddie said. He had taken his bike to school for at least a year now. 

 

    "You've never taken your bike to school, are you sure? Lots of cars in the morning." His dad said, giving Eddie a puzzled look over the rim of his coffee cup. 'NUMBER ONE DAD', it read. He'd never seen it in his life.

 

    "Um, I just thought... I could take myself. So Mom doesn't have to drive."

 

    "Suit yourself, then. Oh, and Bill's mom called, she said Bill has to watch Georgie today while they go meet with some relative. If you want you can go."

 

    Eddie froze in his tracks on the way out the door. Georgie was alive. Georgie was alive, his dad was alive, and he had apparently never ridden his bike to school.

 

    Something was wrong.

  
  


 

    "H-hey, Eddie!" Eddie heard Bill say as he fixed his bike to the rack by the school stairs. "You took your bike today?"

 

    Eddie looked at Bill, suddenly feeling nerves creeping in. He half expected to see the handle of his knife protruding from Bill's chest, but nothing was there. This was the real Bill.

 

    "Y-you okay Eddie? You look a little sh-shaken."

 

    Eddie cleared his throat. "I'm okay. My dad said I could go to your house after school, since you're... watching Georgie."

 

    Bill beamed and Eddie felt terrible, because it had been a while since he last saw Bill genuinely smiling. “Ssounds good!”

 

    The bell rang, letting them know they should be inside and heading to class, at which point Eddie realized he had no clue what class he was supposed to be in. Or even what day it was. Somehow, though, his feet carried him forward into the school and through the hall, into a classroom with Bill where he sat down in the desk next to him like he had done it a million times before. And in the desk behind Bill and the desk next to that one, sat Beverly and Stan, except they didn’t say a thing to Eddie or Bill when they walked in. Ben came in a few minutes late, sitting in the desk in front of Stan, and even though five of the Losers Club were all together it was like only two of them had ever even met before.

  
  


    Eddie’s fears were confirmed as the day went on. He would occasionally see his friends in halls or in classes, but they didn’t interact with each other. Beverly seemed to be by herself always, same with Ben, the two of them blending in and yet sticking out in the way that people seem to when others don’t like them. Mike was even there - if Georgie was alive, Mike’s parents must also have been alive. The Black Spot never burned down, the Derry settlers weren’t killed, anything Pennywise had done in Eddie’s Derry didn’t seem to have happened here.

 

    At lunch, when Eddie went to the school’s library in an effort to find out the history of this Derry, he saw Stan and Richie there working on homework, Richie trying and failing to keep his voice at levels that were library-appropriate. And he didn’t once look at Eddie, because this Richie didn’t know him.

  
  


    “Okay Eddie, you’re acting w-weird. You’ve b-been out of it all day.”

 

    Bill and Eddie were in Bill’s bedroom, Bill working on history homework and Eddie looking through a book of Derry’s history he had checked out from the library. Georgie was either asleep or somewhere in a pile of legos or both.

 

    “What do you mean?” Eddie asked, knowing exactly what Bill meant.

 

    “Ssince when do you c-care about Derry’s history? Ssince when d-does anyone?”

 

    Eddie scanned over a section about an easter egg hunt. No mention of any explosion. “Since it’s changed. Derry wasn’t like this.”

 

    Bill just stared at him. “What?”

 

    Eddie, in response tore out the page on the easter egg hunt with the stories and photos, much to Bill’s shock.

 

    “Eddie y-you can’t r-rip up library books! What the hell are you d-doing?”

 

    Eddie just turned back to the page about Derry’s settlers and their long lives, ripping it out as well. He did the same with a page about the construction of the Black Spot, until Bill grabbed the book from his hands. Eddie took tape from Bill’s desk and put the pages up on the wall as Bill watched in confusion and mild terror.

 

    “Hand me some paper and a pen,” Eddie said, and Bill obliged. Eddie tore up the paper into squares, writing on each and putting them up on the wall. “Explosion kills children at Easter,” Eddie said, putting up a paper with the page about the egg hunt. “The Black Spot burns down,” along with the respective page. “And every settler of Derry is mysteriously killed.” He turned back to Bill.

 

    “What the  _ f-fuck. _ ” Bill said. “Eddie I t-think y-you might be ssick,” Bill said, and Eddie’s eyes widened. 

 

    “Sick… my dad didn’t get sick. My mom -”

 

    “What about your m-mom?”

 

    “Bill, my mom doesn’t think I’ll get sick! My dad didn’t get sick and he isn’t dead. Everything’s completely changed and I’m the only one who can see it, I think.”

 

    Eddie closed the bedroom door, and then sat down on Bill’s bed. Bill was looking at him expectantly, for an explanation behind Eddie’s sudden freak-out.

 

    “Okay. Bill. You trust me, right? And you know I’d never lie to you, right?” Eddie said to Bill, who was quiet, but nodded.

 

    “Then you need to believe everything I’m about to say. I’m not from here.”

 

    “You were b-born here in Derry, Eddie.”

 

    Eddie shook his head. “No, I mean - this isn’t my Derry. It looks the same and it feels the same but it’s like… a puzzle. Pieces are mising, and they were replaced by pieces from another puzzle. They fit just right but it isn’t really the right piece.”

 

    “What p-pieces are they, Eddie? C-cause as far as I know, you’ve ssudenly gone cr-crazy.”

 

    Eddie thought for a moment, listing them all mentally. “My dad is alive. Georgie is alive. Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon, Ben Hanscom and Beverly Marsh - they’re all supposed to be our friends.  _ Our  _ friends, Bill.”

 

    Eddie could see Bill’s mind racing, processing everything. “Sso… if y- if you’re not crazy, you think you t-time traveled?”

 

    Eddie sighed. “Not time traveled, I think. There’s only one thing that ties all these pieces together, and that’s Pennywise.”

 

    “W-wait.  _ Wait _ , Eddie. You ssaid G-Georgie is alive. What d-do you mean, Georgie is alive?” Bill’s face fell and he studied Eddie’s eyes.

 

    “Bill… you might not believe that I’m not crazy or something, or that I’m really from a different Derry. But for me… Georgie was killed months ago. And last summer, all seven of us fought the p- the thing that did it.”

 

    Bill looked to his door, his eyes deep, a mix of confusion and sorrow. “How d-do I know this is true?”

 

    Eddie racked his brain, staring at his hands as he tried to think. And then actually stared at his hands. “We made an oath together, we cut our palms.” He turned over his hand, revealing the scar that crossed his palm. “And before I got to this Derry, I was burned.” He turned his other hand, revealing the rose-shaped scar present there. “Have you ever seen these on my hands before?”

 

    Bill shook his head. “You didn’t have t-those yesterday.”

 

    “Think Bill, what was I like yesterday?”

 

    “Normal,” Bill said, and Eddie rolled his eyes. “But… you didn’t t-take your bike yesterday, and - and y-you didn’t have those cuts. Eddie, I ssaw you use an inhaler t-today, you’ve n-never used an inhaler.”

 

    Eddie unzipped his fanny pack, pulling the inhaler out. “I’ve always used this. Because in my Derry, my dad died of cancer, and my mom always thought I would get sick, and I use this inhaler and I take medicine.”

 

    “Your D-Derry ssucks.”

 

    Eddie thought for a moment, about how really, it did suck. He only had one parent, and Bill was an only child. There were six of them, because Beverly had left, and all of them had gone through pain. Stan had gotten hurt and so had Eddie and Ben, and Mike’s parents weren’t alive either. Being here… none of that had happened. But none of them knew each other, and somehow that was worse than anything they had gone through together.

 

    “I need to find a way back there, but I don’t think I can do it on my own. Something doesn’t feel right, Bill.” The whole day, Eddie had felt the creeping sensation that he was being watched, or that he really didn’t belong there even more than he knew he didn’t. It was like he had been transplanted into this Derry and it wasn’t fully accepting him into it.

 

    “I’ll be r-right back,” Bill said, and he crossed the bedroom to the door. Eddie heard him out in the hall with Georgie, directing his little brother to the fridge to find a snack, and then Bill came back in.

 

    “T-tell me everything.”

  
  


    The next day, Eddie and Bill got to the school early. Eddie had spent nearly hours telling Bill every single thing that had happened over the summer in his Derry, with all seven of them, and Pennywise. Along the way he found out that not only did Bill not remember Eddie ever having had an inhaler or scarred palms, it seemed any specific memories from before the day Eddie arrived were a haze. Bill knew certain things that had happened, knew about certain people, but if Eddie asked him about a specific date or event Bill had little to no memory at all about any of it, like this Derry had only been in existence since when Eddie woke up.

 

    The first person they found was Ben. He had come early as well since he was late yesterday.

 

    “Ben!” Eddie said, as he and Bill walked up to him. Ben whirled around and then shrunk against his locker, as if he was afraid of them. 

 

    “I can give you my lunch money if you want it but it’s not much,” Ben said, digging his hand into his pocket. 

 

    “No, stop. Put the money away, we just want to talk. You’re Ben Hanscom, you’re new here and you like engineering. Henry Bowers personally doesn’t like you, and you have a crush on Beverly Marsh because you share a class together and you think she’s sweet.” Eddie rattled off. Ben took his hand out of his pocket and stared at Eddie with wide eyes.

 

    “Have we met?” Ben said, looking back and forth at Bill and Eddie.

 

    “Not t-technically,” Bill said. “Not in th-this Derry, at least.”

 

    This went on in-between classes and sometimes even during classes. Bill slipped Beverly a note asking her to meet by the tree near the cafeteria at lunch, and Eddie did the same with Stan, asking him to bring Richie Tozier as well. Bill told Eddie that he found Mike Hanlon in the bathroom, until eventually lunchtime came and all seven of them were sitting in a sort-of circle by the corner of the building.

 

    “Why are we all here?” Stan said, observing the group. “You said you know us but I don’t really know any of you.”

 

    “Same here,” Beverly said, and Mike nodded. Richie butted in as usual, something that felt so normal to Eddie but also felt so different.

 

    “I don’t know much about you but I’ve seen Haystack around,” Richie said, pointing to Ben.

 

    “Haystack?” Ben asked, confused about the nickname.

 

    “Your hair, it sticks straight up. Just like my-”

 

    “Beep beep Richie,” Eddie said instinctively, and Richie shut his mouth before realizing that no one had told him “beep beep” before.

 

    “In my Derry that’s how we get Richie to stop talking,” Eddie explained.

 

    “I like it,” Stan said, poking Richie’s side. “Beep beep.”

 

    “Hang on,” Mike said, looking at Eddie. “What do you mean your Derry? This is the only Derry there is.”

 

    “Apparently n-not,” Bill said. “I’ve known Eddie for… w-who knows how long, b-because I don’t even remember not kn-knowing Eddie. I don’t remember anything.”

 

    “We’ve got ourselves an am-ne-si-ac,” Richie said in a voice like a radio show host, stressing each syllable.

 

    “No,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “He means that none of his memories are clear before yesterday, which for me, is when I showed up here. Just think, have any of you seen me at school before?”

 

    Beverly pulled at a loose thread on her jeans. “You sat down in my class yesterday and this morning. I don’t remember that ever happening before. I know that I  _ know  _ you but every time I try and think of where I’ve seen you it isn’t there.”

 

    “He knows everything about me,” Ben said. “Somehow he knew exactly who I was and I’ve never met him. Do it, Eddie.”

 

    Eddie looked at the circle, pointing to each of them. “You’re Beverly Marsh and the other girls don’t like you. You’re Stanley Uris, you’re Jewish and you just turned thirteen recently because you’re a grade below us. You’re Richie Tozier and you make different impressions and lots of jokes. Mike, your grandfather owns a farm where he has sheep and your favorite subject is history.”

 

    The group fell silent, even Richie, surprisingly.

 

    “How do you know all of this?” Stan asked.

 

    “In my Derry, all of us are friends. Best friends, and we took down a killer together. Beverly, you moved to Oregon. Stan and Ben got hurt, and Mike… your parents were gone. Ben was attacked by Henry Bowers and we all helped him. Mike was attacked too and we got into a rock fight to help him. I got my arm broken and was nearly eaten but Beverly shoved a spike through the head of a clown.” Eddie said, recalling it all.

 

    “Badass,” Richie said, leaning over Stan to high-five Beverly.

 

    “The cl-clown killed my brother, Georgie.” Bill said. “In th-the other Derry, I think.”

 

    “It… IT resurfaces every twenty-seven years. IT killed the settlers of Derry and countless kids and we took it down together in the sewers last summer.” Eddie explained. “IT takes the form of a clown, and it looks like your fears.”

 

    “How did you get here, then?” Mike asked. “If you were in a different Derry.”

 

    “There was something pulling me,” Eddie said. For two months I had nightmares and visions and they were all pulling me back to the sewer where we fought Pennywise. When we killed him, he fell down a pit and I thought he wasn’t dead. So I went down.”

 

    “You jumped into a pit after a murderous clown?” Richie said. “Jesus, Eds.”

 

_     Eds.  _ “My Richie calls me Eds...” Eddie said. “And yes. I didn’t die though, I think. I ended up at a tower and there was this voice that was keeping me there. He was kind of a dick. He turned into you, Bill, except he was trying to keep me prisoner.”

 

    “How’d you get out?” Beverly asked.

 

    “I stabbed the fake Bill in the heart and landed in a forest.”

 

    “J-Jesus  _ Ch-Christ _ ,” Bill said, next to Eddie. “Please don’t sstab me. Again, I g-guess.”

 

    “The forest wasn’t Derry either, was it?” Mike said, piecing the story together. “You said you thought Pennywise wasn’t dead. He wasn’t?”

 

    Eddie nodded. “I ended up in some crazy circus, and Pennywise tried attacking me and nearly killed me. I escaped and woke up here, in my bed, hearing my dad telling me to wake up.”

 

    “It wasn’t just a dream?” Richie said. “My dreams are usually a lot more exciting. Usually with a lot less of my dad.”

 

    “Beep beep,” Stan said, the phrase catching on.

 

    “My real dad’s been dead for years.” Eddie said softly and the group went quiet.

 

    “Where do we come in?” Ben said. “You brought us all together, what for?”

 

    “I’m sure I could think of something,” Richie said, getting a well-deserved “ _ Beep beep, _ ” from at least three of them.

 

    “I need to get back to my Derry, and I think I’ll need your help doing that. I left my Derry through the sewers, which connect to an old well underneath the house on Neibolt street. That might be the same way I get back.”

 

    “Why can’t you just walk in the house and go down on your own?” Stan said. “I’ve never liked that house. Plus, I don’t understand how we’re supposed to believe this is real. This Derry kinda sucks enough, there’s no way there’s another one. It just isn’t really adding up.”

 

    Bill fiddled with the cuff of his jeans. “And if it is true? Why wouldn’t we help?”

 

    “I don’t even know you all!” Stan said, standing up. “You don’t even know each other. This just isn’t probable. I’m not going to some creepy fucking house for someone I don’t know.”

 

    That stung Eddie more than anything. This Stan - and Mike, and Richie and Beverly and Ben - they really didn’t know him. Even Bill only had an idea of what he was supposed to be like.

 

    “You don’t have to come,” Eddie said, resigned. “You don’t have to do anything or believe anything.”

 

    “I just need to get back.”   


 

* * *

 

    Eddie pushed his fork into his mashed potatoes, sliding them around the plate.

 

    “What’s wrong, Eddie? Do you not feel like eating?” his mom said, concerned.

 

    In truth, Eddie was a bundle of nerves and eating didn’t seem very fun at all to him at this moment. He and the others, the unofficial Losers Club, had made a plan to go to Neibolt the next night. If Pennywise had followed Eddie here and was waiting for a chance to get rid of him for good, they would all need to be ready. 

 

    “I’ve just been thinking a lot.” Eddie said.

 

    “A penny for your thoughts,” his dad said. “About what?”

 

    Eddie hesitated, realizing that if he was leaving, it didn’t matter what he did or said. “Leaving Derry.”

 

    His mother gasped. “Eddie honey, what do you mean?”

 

    “I’m leaving. This isn’t my Derry and I’m going back to my own.” Eddie suddenly grew frustrated and stood up, causing the table to shake. “Dad, you’re not even my actual dad. Not really, because you died years ago and left mom to take over my life. None of this is even real. You don’t even  _ know  _ me,” Eddie said, stepping away from the table.

 

    To his surprise, his dad just smiled. “Oh, Edward. We figured you’d understand soon that you must not mess with the order of the universe.”

 

    Eddie stopped, his face going pale.

 

    “No, I’m not Pennywise. Neither am I the voice from the tower. I do see your mind, Edward, and I was afraid it would come to this.” His dad stood up and Eddie backed away, feeling his back hit the kitchen counter.

 

    “What are you?”

 

    The man that was his dad but also wasn’t his dad, in more ways than one, started to darken. Not like he was becoming darker, it was instead like the space he inhabited was simply being cut out of existence and losing its human form, until a vague shape like a person stood before Eddie, a complete void inside of it. It’s voice no longer came from a mouth or face but instead from all around.

 

    “We are the ones who protect the universe from those who upset it. Whenever there is an element from outside a world that is causing problems for one it has entered, we are those who clean it all away. You give us no choice. The damage done by your presence has fractured this world. We cannot repair it but we can erase it all.”

  
  


    Eddie stared in horror as his mother also formed into one of these things, her voice coming from the void that she now was. “You could have lived here, Edward, and been happy. All you ever wanted, no fear, no pain.”

 

    Eddie shook his hand, slowly moving his hand across the counter-top until he felt it close around a handle. “I couldn’t be happy knowing everything is fake.”

 

    He swung the frying pan he had grabbed at the figure in front of him. It hit it hard, lodging into the void that made up the head, but then the figure just grabbed it and shoved it into its face like it was devouring it. With no trace left, the frying pan was gone, taken into the void of the creature.

 

    What’s worse, Eddie’s mind was invaded by a familiar voice.

 

_     Run, Edward. RUN. _

 

    Eddie ducked around the creature that was his dad, sprinting down the hall to his bedroom. As he passed furniture in the hallway he shoved it and threw it down - a china cabinet, now tilted diagonally across the hall with dishes spilling out, photos of a life he didn’t have thrown behind him. He ran into his room, slamming the door behind him as he grabbed his backpack and fanny pack, putting the knife sheath on his belt again.

 

    “How are you in my head? Am I at the tower?” Eddie said, frantically tearing open his window and punching the screen out.

 

_     You left the tower when you entered the Realm of Pennywise, and then entered this Derry. I have been observing. _

 

    Eddie tumbled out his window into his backyard, running to the side gate and throwing it open as he grabbed his bike. “Why are you telling me to run? I stabbed you.”

 

_     You merely stabbed a form I took.  _

 

_     And if you don’t run Eddie, you are going to be killed. _

 

    “Figures. Everyone’s trying to kill me now,” Eddie said, hopping on his bike, building up speed as he pedaled like crazy. He could feel a coldness from his house, like the creatures sucked in all heat, and pedaled faster to get away from it.

 

_     Turn left,  _ the voice said, and Eddie pivoted the handlebars hard, turning down the street.  _ Go to the house of William Denbrough. _

 

    “Why, so I can get him killed too?” Eddie said, yet he still biked in the same direction like he had done so many times before. 

 

_     No. Because Stanley Uris is there. _

 

    “Stan - why Stan? Why is he at Bill’s?”

 

_     Stanley is the only other one I can speak to, which I have been doing since your lunch. He does not like me. But he and William are the only ones who will be able to help you survive long enough. _

 

    “Long enough for what?” Eddie said, nearing Bill’s house. 

 

_     Long enough to leave Derry. _

 

    Eddie didn’t question further. He skidded to a stop, tossing his bike aside, and barged right through Bill’s door without knocking first. 

 

    “Eddie Kaspbrak, what are you doing?” He heard Bill’s mom say, but Eddie just beelined to Bill’s room.

 

    He opened the door to see Bill and Stan, each of them with rudimentary weapons - Bill had his metal baseball bat from his years playing on Derry’s team, and Stan had the axe that Bill’s dad used to chop wood for the winter.

 

    “S-Stan says we’re g-gonna die?” Bill said, gripping the bat tightly.

 

    “Probably,” Eddie said. “Hasn't worked out so far for me. You in?”

 

    Stan nodded. “Bill says he knows you, and he trusts you, or at least he thinks he does. Plus, shit’s been acting really weird today.”

 

    Bill nodded, tentatively swinging his bat. “My p-parents aren’t acting normal, neither- neither are Stan’s. And it ffeels r-really cold, way more c-cold than it sshould be in  _ August. _ ”

 

    “Whatever the voice says is trying to get us, it’s coming. I feel it.” Stan added.

 

    Bill winced as he heard a thundering crash downstairs and the sound of wood splintering. “W-we’re in.”

  
  


    The three went downstairs cautiously, Eddie gripping his knife, Stan his axe, and Bill his bat. Standing in Bill’s living room, near the door were Eddie’s and Bill’s parents. 

 

    “Now, Eddie, why don’t you come back home? Your dinner will be cold,” Eddie’s mother said. 

 

    “They aren’t your parents,” Stan said. “I can see them, but it’s like they’re not fully there. There’s just a cold blackness underneath.”

 

    Eddie nodded. “They can shift back and forth apparently. The one that’s my dad somehow made a frying pan disappear. Don’t hit their face.”

 

    “And G-Georgie?” Bill said, but there was no sign of his younger brother. “Everyone’s fake, aren’t they? Why aren’t we?”

 

_     They are a constant, Edward. Wherever you are, whichever reality, they will be there. _

 

    “It says we’re always gonna be connected,” Stan said before Eddie could explain. The idea of the voice speaking to Stan felt weird. “Guess we don’t have to know each other forever to fight for each other.”

 

    The four parents in the living room shifted just like Eddie’s had already, their forms becoming a partially-shaped void. 

 

    “We will right what you have wronged, Edward,” one of them said.

 

    “Fuck off.” Eddie said, sheathing his knife and grabbing a poker from the fireplace next to him. He lunged forwards, swinging it at the nearest creature. It sliced through cleanly, the creature howling in pain, plunging the room into coldness regardless of the burning fire. Eddie felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked over to see Stan chopping off an arm that had been reaching for Eddie. Bill was occupied swinging at the two creatures nearest to him while the one at Eddie’s feet got back up, missing a head and part of an arm.

 

    The hand that Stan chopped up seemed to be absorbed into the headless creature, which pulsated as a tendril formed from its neck, a long, whip-like appendage now between it’s shoulders.

 

    “Th-they reform!” Bill yelled, smashing his bat into a creature’s back and kicking out at another one. Every injury that one sustained, if it lost a limb, it seemed to just grow back in a more horrific and less human way.

 

    Stan yelped as one of the creatures that had been focusing on Bill lunged towards him, knocking him back towards the fireplace. Eddie went to spear the creature attacking himself but the tendril flung out and wrapped around the poker, wrenching it from his hands. Bill, too, was being backed into a corner, with no room to swing the bat.

 

    Stan’s hands scrambled madly for something to grab, finding only the base of a log from the fireplace, the heat searing against his fingertips. He grabbed the log and shoved it directly into the face of a creature that was leaning over him, launching it back like it had been shot. It struggled to gulp down the log like what had happened to Eddie’s frying pan, but the fire started spreading all over its body as it writhed in pain. 

 

    “Fire!” Stan yelled, grabbing another log and passing it to Eddie just as Eddie had been picked up by the creature. Eddie smashed it into the base of its neck, the flames taking on the figure and engulfing all around its body. It dropped Eddie and screeched like the first one that had been hurt, but the sound was even more terrible and loud. It seemed to fill the whole room, shaking the floor itself, until the windows all imploded inwards like a sonic boom, flinging glass everywhere as the boys ducked. The razor-sharp shards went through the creatures like butter met with a hot chainsaw, flinging their void-like goo all over the walls and the boys. 

 

    They all were on the ground, panting, Stan clutching his hand gently.

 

    “I d-don’t think they’ll re-fform from t-that,” Bill said, just as the curtains caught fire, flames licking up the wall.

 

    “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  
  


    The three boys stood outside the house with their bikes, watching as flames consumed the insides, heat rolling out of the windows into the street.

 

    “SStan says that the v-voice…” Bill started, and Eddie nodded.

 

    “It’s back for some reason. I don’t think it got the hint when I stabbed it.”

 

    “And apparently I can hear it,” Stan said, wrapping a bandage around his fingers from Eddie’s first aid kit. “Hey voice, mind telling us what to do now that we burned a house down?”

 

_     In order for Edward to leave this reality, he must Fall. It is how he left his own, and how he will reach the next. _

 

    Stan relayed the message to Bill as Eddie spoke to the voice. “What do you mean the next? Why not my own? And how do I fall?”

 

_     So many questions from this one. I would like you, except that I am neutral in all instances of fate. Think of the procession of realities as a circle of dominoes, Edward. When you push the dominoes, they will only fall in one direction until it reaches the start again. You’ve pushed the dominoes. In order to get back around the cycle to your Derry, you must go through each in between. You are special, Edward. There are not many who can traverse realities, but even you must activate it. _

 

    “By falling,” Eddie said, beginning to understand at least somewhat. “I fell in the sewer, but now I can’t do that, can I? I need another place to fall.”

 

    “W-what place? Where c-could you even fall enough?” Bill asked, and the answer started to formulate.

 

    “The quarry. Jumping off into the river, except maybe instead of landing in the river, I’ll land in the next Derry, or wherever.” Eddie looked back to the flames devouring Bill’s home. “In my Derry, we jump there a lot.”

 

    “I think we should go, now.” Stan said, with a sense of sudden urgency in his voice. Eddie and Bill turned around to see what Stan was seeing. In every doorway and on the sidewalks, all along the street, people stood, staring in the exact direction of the three of them.

 

    “F-fuck.”

 

    Eddie, Stan and Bill all mounted their bikes, quickly getting the hell out of there.

 

    “H-hi-yo, Ssilver, away!” Bill said, which somehow seemed appropriate. Right now Silver was more of a majestic steed than he ever had been, considering they were fighting inhuman creatures that controlled the entire town.

 

    The coldness was all around them as they sped through the heart of Derry’s residential areas, spotting more and more of the people who weren’t people.

 

    And they nearly crashed into Beverly Marsh and Richie Tozier, sitting at the wheel of a minivan sideways across the street.

 

    “We stole a car, Stan!” Richie said, waving around a revolver. “Get in!”

 

    The three boys looked at each other, and then scrambled to get off of their bikes and in the car. Beverly spun the car around, hitting a few others parked in the process with a bad crunching sound. “Where are we headed? These things have been trying to kill us for the past half-hour or so.”

 

    “The quarry,” Eddie said, and Beverly flicked the car into gear, the engine revving. The minivan barreled forward with occasional thuds as Beverly drove directly into the creatures in the road, cackling like a maniac. 

 

    “Say, Eds, remind me again why these things are attacking? Really put a damper on my mood. I was just about to have some me-time, if you kn-”

 

    “Beep beep, Richie!” Stan shouted, fumbling with his seatbelt. “It’s the apocalypse and your plan is to whack one out?”

 

    “Can we stop talking about that?” Eddie said, gripping the door handle. “These things, the one that was my dad said that they’re the cleanup crew for realities that have been messed with. I think me being here was fine, up until you all started realizing that your memories aren’t real.”

 

    “Shame. I’ve got a real nice memory with Shelly Bradford, does that mean I’m a super-virgin now?”

 

    “B-” Eddie started, but instead Beverly just honked the horn. “Turn around, Trashmouth, you can die from not wearing a seatbelt.” she said, ignoring Richie’s protests that he would die whether or not he wore a seatbelt because of the hellscape outside.

 

    “Three of these - things - have already tried to get me. One of them was my dad.” Beverly said, her knuckles white on the wheel.

 

    “The lady I cat-sit for? She broke through my window,” Richie said, a bit too enthusiastically. “I’ve always wanted to survive the apocalypse.”

 

    Eddie looked out the window behind him, seeing - well, not seeing was the problem. The creatures were methodically devouring everything in neat paths, consuming reality itself just a block away. In its place was pure darkness. “Beverly, we need to step on it,  _ now _ .”

 

    “Hold on to something,” she said, gunning the gas. They raced off of the road and onto a dirt road, the car bumping as Beverly drove madly. 

 

    Eddie counted the roads trailing off to the left - one, two, three and four, five… six. “Turn left, now!” Eddie yelled, and Beverly jerked the steering wheel, spinning the car. The back pivoted wildly as the car went in a full rotation, spinning through a whole three-sixty degree turn before it centered again as it crunched to a stop.

 

    Richie pushed open his door, tumbling out of the van. Eddie untangled himself from Bill and all five got out. 

 

    “Next time…” Richie said, breathing heavily. “I’m wearing… seatbelt. If this reality isn’t erased, or whatever.”

 

    Beverly held her hand out to Richie, who handed her the revolver. She checked the bullets, spinning the barrel around. “I don’t know if this’ll stop these things but it might hurt them.” 

 

    “Q-quarry,” Bill said, pointing forward. The edge of the quarry was just yards away, the night falling over the rocky ledge. Behind the five of them were more of the creatures, which shifted into people again.

 

    “Now, now, we don’t want to do anything dangerous, do we? Cliffs aren’t a safe place for little children.” One of them said, a middle-aged man in a business suit, like he had been hard at work before he became a monster.

 

    Beverly cocked the revolver, pointing it straight at the man. She pulled the trigger and his head snapped back. He slowly raised up again, part of his face decimated.

 

    “We aren’t children,” Bill said, his voice steady, even though they were looking death in the eyes.

 

    “This is like old times,” Eddie said, remarking at the odd humor of the situation. “Except only for me.”

 

    “Blah blah yeah anyways,” Richie said, pulling out a super soaker and a lighter. “Suck my dick!” He yelled, shooting a stream from the super soaker at the nearest creature, flicking his lighter and holding it up to the stream.

 

    The super soaker became a flamethrower, liquid fire pouring all over its targets. Two of them wailed as their bodies shifted and burned, and the others rushed towards the group.

  
  


    Beverly fired off shots into the creatures as the others were assaulted by Bill, Stan and Eddie, each of them swinging and hitting and chopping into the inhuman masses. Richie was laughing his head off as he lit more on fire, yelling terrible jokes at them as he took them down.

 

    “Say,” he said, pulling out a butcher knife and tearing through a leg. “You ever hear about the chicken that crossed the road? He was heading for the idiot’s house.” He flipped the knife around, sinking it deep into the chest of another creature as one started going for him. “Knock knock, you’re the idiot!”

 

    Eddie and Stan were maintaining a safe distance from Bill as they hacked through the creatures - he had taken to gripping his baseball bat in front of him with both arms, and spinning like a human blender through the creatures around him.

 

    Beverly blew the head off another, but cried out as one grabbed at her leg and brought her down to the ground hard. More of them were pouring in from the town, and the five of them wouldn’t be enough to take them all.

 

    “Richie!” Eddie yelled, tossing his knife. Richie caught it, slicing through the creature that had Beverly’s leg and stabbing another in the face. It yanked out the knife and stabbed at Richie with it, who rolled to the side, narrowly dodging. Eddie ran over screaming nonsense as he jumped up, kicking into the creature with his entire weight. He rolled as he landed, pine needles poking into his arms and face.

 

    The closest thing to him was Richie’s super soaker.

 

    And the minivan.

 

    Eddie crawled under the car, keeping his head low as he inched underneath, his clothes getting covered in dirt no doubt. He came up on the other side and threw the driver’s side door open, fumbling about for the lever that would pop the hood, catching it and yanking it.

 

    He went to the hood and flung it open, taking the super soaker and shooting the gasoline that was left in it on every available surface, even taking the remainder and soaking the inside of the car.

 

    “Guys, get away from the car!” Eddie yelled, and realization dawned on the other four as they put together why he was at the car with the gasoline-filled super soaker.

 

    They ducked out of the way of the creatures, Richie pausing only momentarily to grab Eddie’s knife. They hauled ass towards the quarry’s edge, the creatures advancing. 

 

    Please, let this work, Eddie thought, pulling out Richie’s lighter. He flicked open the cap the tiny flame flickering, and tossed it under the hood into the engine as he ran back towards the others.

 

    The car immediately started to smoke, the fire burning up the gasoline and scaring back the creatures, and for a moment it seemed like it would just burn. 

 

    And then the flames hit the engine.

 

    The car exploded with a sound like thunder, flames going up and out, fire being thrown all over the creatures and trees. It wasn’t even dark from the nighttime anymore - the fire tearing at the sky illuminated everything, and burned everything.

 

    Beverly fired two more shots until the revolver just clicked, throwing the gun at the creatures. “It’s been nice knowing you for a day,” she said. 

 

    “Tell your Richie hi from me! When you get there,” Richie said, handing Eddie his knife, which Eddie fastened back in his sheath. “I haven’t had this fun of a day in forever.”

 

    The creatures that weren’t melting were shambling towards the group, some of them less hurt than they should have been. Eddie had caused this, and now they were practically laying down their lives for him after just a day. “I’m sorry for all of this,” Eddie said, feeling the ground beneath his feet shift as loose rocks settles into each other. He was at the very edge.

 

    Without a moment to waste, he turned around, leaping off of the quarry’s edge out towards the dark water.

 

    His feet hit the surface, and he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter so far, making up 45% of every word posted as of this chapter's publication!
> 
> There may be a few days delay in posting Chapter 5, worst-case scenario, but it should be on schedule like the others.
> 
> Shit's getting real now.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT REGARDING UPDATE SCHEDULE: I ended up having to be out of town and busy this week and didn't get to post Chapter 5 on Monday, it's in the process of being edited.
> 
> I will finish Chapters 5 through 7 and start posting regularly again once chapter 7 is complete, starting with chapter 5, and then probably take another week or so to get Chapters 8 through 10 written, so there will be two chunks of three chapters each. Sorry about the waiting, hopefully it's worth it!!
> 
> Dedicated to @a_funeral_u_say (ao3 and tumblr) as part of the Book of Mormon secret santa event, from tumblr user jemfinchknowswhatyoudidinthedark.


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